


Splashes of Color

by Garecc



Series: Of Immortals [15]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: (Fading), (Kinda? More like energy deprivation), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear of Death, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Rescue, Sensory Overload, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-17 09:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16972035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garecc/pseuds/Garecc
Summary: Sequel to Blank Walls.Hermes is imprisoned by the emperors. Deprived of nectar and ambrosia he wastes away. Slowly losing his mind and inching closer and closer to fading. Then he is rescued.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Read Blank Walls before this please!!

Do you know what it's like to give up?

To lose track of time?

To resign yourself to a quiet, slow, death?

To know your family has forsaken you?

To know you are alone?

And then

be proven

wrong?

To accept your _fate_ to die in chains, losing yourself ever so slowly at the hands of your enemy?

Hermes felt so far away from everything real. His consciousness felt like a balloon above his head, tethered to his form by only the thinnest string. Close yet out of reach.

There was a small part of him aware of people nearby.

Of faces.

Of _colors_.

A difference in the gray scene that had swallowed him whole. In the blank dull room he had found to be his prison for so long now.

But he didn't react.

He couldn't react if he wanted to.

Reality was far and between. Spread thin.

One of the figures seemed desperate. The other seemed shocked.

It was almost like an electric shock when the desperate one touched his shoulder. Words spilling from their lips.

The words floated into the air, buzzing like bees.

Words as meaningless and important as the flitting thoughts of a fading deity.

Things seemed staticky. Fuzzy.

“Hermes.” His **name** cut through his delirium, through the fuzzy silence. 

The sound was followed by a terrible mind-consuming ringing that only seemed to get louder as words floated and spun closer.

Was any of this real?

The ringing ebbed away as words floated around him, meaningless and far away.

The constant pressure on his wrists that hadn't changed in.. some long unit of time, _changed._

Reality crashed down on him like a tidal wave and he jerked his wrists away.

The ringing was back. Fog creeping into his mind. Washing out and obscuring any thoughts he may have had.

The shackles got tighter and the balloon popped. He found **Himself** back in his form.

White static buzzed around his brain. Fog threatening to fuzz everything out again.

Hunger ran through his form, once again aware of everything _wrong_. Ichor was pounding in his ears and bits and pieces of **him** _screaming and screaming_ and he didn't _want_ to wake up.

~~There was a part of him who wanted to sink back into unawareness.~~

~~There was a part of him that wanted to return to the blank nothingness that claimed him for oh so long.~~

A voice.

He heard a voice,

Far away and he couldn't _understand_ but he latched onto it, held on for dear life.

It was _real_ and that's the _only_ thing he was sure of.

Information about his surroundings poured into his open mind.

Gray walls

Gray tile floor

Gray ceiling

He was grasping for anything _anything_ to hold on to.

_He didn't want to fade-_

“Hermes.” He held onto the voice. Trying to drag **himself** forward.

The hands returned to his shoulders.

“Can you hear me?”

They sounded scared.

They sounded terrified.

He tried to signify he could hear them anything anything would work.

But he couldn't see he couldn't force words from his mouth.

Information spiraled through his head more information than he’s had in some long period of time. (why doesn't he know he should know how long it’s been-)

There was a girl in the room. Young. Early teens? Preteen? He didn't _know_.

“If you can hear me try to focus on my voice alright?”

He couldn't respond he couldn't respond he couldn't respond he _couldn't respond he couldn’t respond he couldn't respond._

A teenager. Demigod? No mortal. No. _Not Mortal._ Too familiar- **Apollo.**

 **Apollo**. It's **Apollo**. He came. His family came. He came.

“I’m going to take off the shackles.”

The click was like an explosion in his ears.

A sound he _never_ expected to hear.

Apollo (he came he’s here he wasn't abandoned his family came) lowered his arm, making sure it didn't just fall to his side.

The other cuff clicked open.

He was f **r** e  _e_.

Information flew through his consciousness. Facts and data and w _hy couldn't he breathe-_

“Hey, hey, Hermes. Its okay. Its okay. Breathe. Breathe.”

_Apollo its Apollo he came he came he came._

_He came._

_His family didn't abandon him._

His lungs expanded with a shuddering gasp and he was breathing.

Shuddering sobbing hiccuping gasps.

“We’re going to get you out of here.”

Information and data were swirling through his head. He couldn't make sense of it. He couldn't make sense of anything.

He focused, and forced his head to move.

Up.

Down.

A nod.

There was _too much_ to process. So much information swirling through him. **He** couldn't process it.

_Where are his domains?_

_Where is_ **_HE?_ **

His entire being screamed for energy. Screamed for nectar and ambrosia. He couldn't think he couldn't _move._

His tongue felt swollen in his throat.

The ringing in his head was _unbearable._

“Can you talk Herms?” The _fear_ in his voice sent Hermes into another spiral of just trying to _understand everything._

Right.

Left.

A shake of the head. No.

Too much information. **He** couldn't do this.

There wasn't enough of **Him** to do this.

The hand on his shoulder was sending unreadable information passing through him at lightning speeds.

 **He** couldn't process anything. Nothing made sense. It didn't make sense.

There was a part of him that longed for the nothingness.

“Is nodding too much right now?” Apollo asked, somehow sensing his distress. (Apollo it’s Apollo Apollo’s here he came he came for me _they didn't abandon me—)_ “ _Don't_ nod if it is. I’ll take your silence as a yes.”

He didn't move. His mind was full of alarms and he felt frozen. Information falling through him. Tearing through his mind as he struggled to make any sort of sense of it. It felt encrypted. It felt wrong. He couldn't understand.

His arm was placed over Apollo’s shoulder. He felt Apollo haul him to his feet.

Dizzying amounts of information slammed into him. He couldn't _think. He_ couldn't _fathom. He_ couldn't _perceive._

Hermes put every single bit of focus he had on placing one foot in front of the other.

_He couldn't think he couldn't think he couldn't think._

Left

Lift

Forward

Step

Right

Lift

Forward

Step.

_There was too much._

_Everything was so much._

_Too many sounds to many voices to many colors._

_Too much._

_It was too much._

Someone was screaming. Angry screaming. The sound cut into his head like a warm knife to butter.

Screaming.

Hermes tried to cover his ears. He couldn't. He _couldn't move._ He was frozen in place.

The sounds and voices and screaming melded into a blurred mess of _sound._

Screaming talking.

_It was too much._

Someone was crying,

He _heard crying._

Desperate words urging him forward. Desperate panicked words urging him forward.

_Apollo. Apollo was crying because of him._

Another step forward.

He had to keep moving.

Left

Lift

Forward

Step.

Color blurred out and all sound faded to a faint buzz.

His body felt far away.

Meaningless information passed through him in waves. He couldn't make sense of it. He couldn't make sense of anything.

Colors, sounds, smells, _sensations_ passed through him.

Too _bright_ too _loud_ too _m u c h._

His knees felt like they would buckle.

Somewhere far away he was aware of Apollo dragging him forward. His voice no longer grounding him but adding to the blur of fuzzy faded senses.

_Everything was too loud and too jarring._

Information crashed into him in harsh waves.

He couldn't _understand._

He needed it to be _quiet._

He couldn't speak to tell him to _be quiet._

He couldn't _think._

There was **too much.**

 **He** couldn't go on.

**Then everything went blank.**

Hermes felt like he was floating.

~~Is this what it feels like to fade?~~

It was silent. Somewhere between dark and light.

Slowly his senses ebbed back.

First, he was aware of movement.

Of **travel.**

Second the hum of an engine.

Third the presence of someone close by, his head in their lap.

Gentle power— **his** power —was drifting through him.

Thoughts and prayers from his followers were within reach.

They were **traveling**. Part of his domain.

His tongue no longer felt swollen in his throat.

He could _feel his spheres of influence._ They were within reach. He could _feel them._ _Interact with them if he so wished._

Hands petted his hair. Soothing. Calming.

He was afraid if he opened his eyes everything would disappear and he would be back in that room.

“Herms?” Apollo broke the silence. “Are you awake?”

He nodded.

“You nearly faded,” Apollo said slowly, shakily. “Can you speak?”

He _could. He technically could._ But his voice felt stuck in his throat. So he shook his head.

Apollo was silent for a long moment, until tears started gathering in Hermes’s eyes,

He _couldn't_ believe this was real.

He had to speak. Had to say _somthing_.

“You came.” His voice came out choppy and broken, hoarse from lack of use.

He felt Apollo go still.

“You came for me-” a sob caught in his throat.

The sound of the engine was beginning to tear into his head.

The sound of passing cars and whooshing air was beginning to get _too loud._

“You came.” He repeated a third time.

A tear dripped down his cheek. A sob wrenched itself from his throat.

Apollo pulled him into a hug.

Hermes couldn't stop his tears as he clung to Apollo.

He was shaking.

Behind his eyelids, all he could see was the color gray.

 

His brother. His family _, came_ for him.

 

He wasn't alone.

 


	2. Chapter 2

~~[ Do you know what it's like to give up?]~~

Do you know what it's like to find out someone you love is in danger?

~~[To lose track of time?]~~

To be aware of every tick of the metaphorical clock counting down to their demise?

~~[To resign yourself to a quiet, slow, death?]~~

To promise to yourself you will save them?

~~[To know your family has forsaken you?]~~

To be desperate to save your family, your brother?

~~[To know you are alone?]~~

To know they have been alone?

~~[And then~~

~~be proven~~

~~wrong?]~~

And promising yourself

that you will

save them?

~~[To accept your _fate_ to die in chains, losing yourself ever so slowly at the hands of your enemy?] ~~

To look to the future, and know you are _fated_ to save them. You have to be.

 

Apollo opened the door to Hermes’s cell. He didn't know what to expect. His dreams had been cryptic and unspecific at best.

He knew what awaited him on the other side would not be pleasant. He knew Hermes would need his help. He knew he was hurting.

He wasn't prepared for the scene of misery before him.

The room was unbearably bright. Fluorescent lights boring down, illuminating the pathetic form of his brother.

It was barbaric. Golden chains snaked down from the ceiling, attached to his wrists. They forced his arms to remain suspended above his head.

Hermes didn't move.

He didn’t react.

He just stared off into nowhere. Not blinking. Hardly breathing.

Apollo could smell dried ichor.

“Hermes?”

Nothing. He didn't react. He didn't move.

“Hermes. Hermes _please._ ”

Apollo knew what was happening. He could recognize the symptoms. The signs in front of him.

Fading.

The signs of a deity fading.

It just didn't _make sense._

Hermes is one of the strongest deities. And not even the most minor deity could be pushed to the edge of fading in under a year.

And Hermes was _far_ from minor.

But yet, there they were.

Apollo stumbled over.

Hermes didn't move. Didn't blink.

Apollo felt tears well up in his eyes. He placed his hands on Hermes’s shoulders. “Hermes please, you need to focus. Hermes I didn’t come all this way just to watch you fade!”

Apollo then noticed a persistent tremor in Hermes's shoulders. He was trembling.

Apolo almost sobbed in relief. “That's it.. Pull yourself out. You’re still in there, you can do it Hermes.” He wasn't as far gone as Apollo feared. “Hermes, can you hear me?”

With a gasping breath, he seemed to wake up a bit. The trembling grew into shaking. “You can do this, Herms. I promise. You’re strong.” Apollo began examining the shackles for where the key would go.

Hermes _moved._

He jerked his wrist away from Apollo. The clinking of metal painfully loud over the buzzing of the lights.

A drop of ichor made its way down his arm.

_Oh._

A million thoughts crashed through Apollo's head. Were the shackles spiked, digging into his skin? Bolts running through his form? Or did he struggle for so long his wrists were raw?

Apollo had no way to know what was hidden by the gold.

“Hey, you’re going to be okay. I’m here. We’re going to get you out.” Apollo knew Hermes probably couldn't hear him. But he _had_ to reassure him.

His eyes remained open and blank. But tears were beginning to collect in them.

How many times did he cry? Did he scream? Did he beg for someone to save him?

His gaze flickered around. Unseeing. Empty. The way mortals eyes do when they are asleep.

He didn't want to risk messing with the cuffs any longer. He didn't know what was obscured by them.

Apollo returned his hands to Hermes's shoulders, desperate to just comfort him.

His younger brother.

“Hermes, can you hear me?” He asked yet again, desperation creeping into his voice.

Your domains go first. The ability to feel your followers second. Then your senses.

The ability to perceive.

The ability to interact with your surroundings.

Leaving only **you** in a blank void of nothingness. The pain fading to a dim outline.

And then finally, the simple ability to be.

He knew Hermes likely couldn't hear him. Couldn't see him.

But he had to ask again. If by some miracle he could.

Hermes was breathing erratically. But he was breathing.

He was _existing._

“If you can hear me, try to focus on my voice alright?”

Hermes was _shaking._

“I’m going to take off the shackles.”

Apollo turned to Meg, who was staring at Hermes in dismay. “Can I have the keys?”

She held out the key ring she had acquired earlier.

Apollo took them. “Thank you.”

Apollo reached for his arm, Hermes flinched, trying to pull away, but Apollo held his arm steady.

With a soft click, the shackle popped open.

The shackles weren't spiked and didn't have metal through his arm.

They were just shackles.

His wrists were covered in golden gore.

Apollo gently set his arm down.

He wasn't aware enough to lift it himself.

His shoulders would be sore from remaining in that position for so long.

Apollo freed his other wrist.

The effect was instantaneous.

Hermes drew his arms around himself, air wheezing from his lungs, short worthless gasping breaths followed. Then nothing. Like his breath was caught in his throat.

Fat tears poured from his eyes.

He was _shaking._

Apollo recovered from the shock of him moving quickly, he dropped to his knees next to Hermes. “Hey, hey. Hermes.”

A sob. A keening sob. Apollo instinctively reached for his hands. Trying to tell him he’s here.

He wished for his powers. If he had his powers he could destroy those who hurt him.

“Its okay. Its okay. Breathe. Breathe.”

Apollo felt helpless. There was nothing he could do to control this situation.

With a sobbing gasp, Hermes took a breath.

Broken sob after broken sob. Tears pouring down his face.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m getting you out of here, I’m getting you out of here.”

Nothing.

Hermes didn't respond. He just curled around his arms.

His eyes were wide and blank. Unseeing yet staring somewhere in Apollo’s direction.

He was shaking and shaking and shaking and Apollo _had to get him out of here._

Then his tears stopped. Abruptly and as quick as they started.

“We’re going to get you out of here.” He said.

Then, Hermes nodded. Jerkily. But a nod nonetheless.

Apollo could have started crying. He wiped at his eyes.

“Can you talk Herms?”

He shook his head. Just as jerkily, just as forcedly and unnaturally.

It looked like just those two movements exhausted him.

This was the worst way for a god to fade. Deprived of their domains. Deprived of nectar and ambrosia. Deprived of any comfort.

Alone in a room.

Losing control of your body. Of **yourself.**

“Is nodding too much right now?” With a second thought he added. “ _Don't_ nod if it is. I’ll take your silence as a yes.”

Nothing. No reaction. Hermes’s head stayed still, his unfocused unseeing eyes wide.

Apollo exhaled. He hooked Hermes’s arm around his shoulder, hauling him up.

He was _so light._

Even for a being of pure energy, he was light.

“Meg, go ahead. He can’t fight.”

She nodded, walking briskly out the door.

Hermes did his best to help, Apollo could tell he was _trying._ But his steps were unstable and misplaced. Apollo hooked Hermes's arm around his neck, and held it there with one hand. He had his free arm around Hermes's waist. Holding him steady.

Then there was fighting. Turns out freeing a godly prisoner, raises _many_ alarms.

Meg was defending them, but there were a lot of people.

Too many people.

Blades flashing and Meg, ever the amazing swordswoman, was fending them off, but not even Meg could fight off so many people at once. And 3 was pushing it.

Apollo felt Hermes tense against him.

When the yelling started, and Hermes went still Apollo knew something was _wrong._

“Just breathe Herms, you’re gonna be fine.” The screaming was loud and Apollo doubted Hermes could hear his attempt at being comforting.

When Hermes swayed against him almost completely he knew they had to get out _fast._

Hermes reached for his ears and suddenly the problem made sense.

It was _too loud._

He’d been trapped in a room for months without sound. And now he was being yelled at.

Against his will, Apollo started crying.

_Why didn't he get there faster?_

_He should have FIGURED something happened to Hermes!_

_Why else would communication be down??_

Meg was panting as she managed to knock down the final person. “We need to go.” She gestured them forward.

“Come on. Herms it's just a little further.” He didn't budge, he didn't move. He seemed frozen. Hands clasped over his ears.  

“Hermes you need to move!” Desperation made his voice louder. Hermes _flinched_ and guilt burst forward. “I'm sorry- We need to go okay?”

Hermes took a hesitant step forward, Apollo gently put his arm around his shoulder again. “Lean on me all you need.”

Hermes mumbled something completely unintelligible, Apollo wasn't even sure if it was meant to be words.

Almost all of Hermes's weight was on Apollo.

He had stopped trembling almost completely.

And then Hermes was still.

“Herms?”

His knees buckled under him, his eyes closed. Apollo caught him before he hit the ground.

With mild panic, Apollo pulled him up.

He was unconscious.

(for a moment an image of a completely different brother popped into his head, Ares after 13 months of isolation, almost completely unresponsive, but it was gone as soon as it was there)

With a moment's hesitation, Apollo picked him up.

He was _so light._

Apollo hurried after Meg.

They followed the signs on the wall leading to the exit for a minute, but then Meg turned into a random hallway.

It was _suspicious_ how little resistance they were met with as they traversed the hallway.

“Meg? Why are we going this way?”

“Houseplant.”

“What?”

“I can get us out through the plants, they’ll take us outside.”

The perimeter _would likely be guarded._

Sure enough, around the corner was a houseplant. “Meg? Have you ever transported other people?”

“No, but I have to.”

“Take Hermes, I can find a way out myself.”

Meg disregarded his words, grabbed Apollo’s hand and then they were gone.

They were spit out a few blocks away, falling out of a tree.

Meg looked tired. Not even tired, plain exhausted. “Meg?”

“I’m fine.”

Apollo could tell she wasn't. But Hermes was looking worse than before. And Apollo knew he couldn't carry both of them if she were to collapse. “Okay. Let's just get back to the car.”

 

~0~

 

Apollo watched as Hermes slowly regained awareness. He played with his hair, as he did when Hermes was younger. As he did after father yelled and stormed for hours. As he did after Hermes finished yelling and broke down crying when May succumbed to the curse on his Oracle

When Hermes’s expression changed from one of sleep to one of confusion, Apollo was fairly certain he was aware.

“Herms? Are you awake?”

He nodded. Not in a jerky way, but a natural way. Smoothly.

“You nearly faded,” Apollo lamented, his voice trembling a bit. He ignored that and went on. “Can you speak?”

 

Hermes shook his head, his eyes remained closed. Apollo nodded, continuing to just play with his hair. The silence, instead of deafening was warm. Comfortable. Then Apollo noticed tears gathering in Hermes's eyes.

Then Hermes _spoke_.

“You came.”

Apollo felt his heart break. Shatter.

Hermes's voice came out a croak, hoarse from not having spoken for so long.

 _Or maybe from screaming for someone to come?_   
“You came for me-” His voice hitched, and Apollo just kept playing with his hair. Trying to be comforting.

“You came.” He repeated. He sounded almost disbelieving.

And then a tear rolled down Hermes's cheek, and a sob tore itself from his throat.

Apollo leaned down and pulled Hermes up and into a hug.

Hermes sat up and _melted_ into Apollo's embrace. Crying as he clung to Apollo.

Apollo could feel him shaking. Could hear his cries.

He held him tighter.

Never again.

Never again will he be so careless as to let his baby brother be so hurt.

He pressed a kiss to the top of his brothers head.  
Never again.

**Author's Note:**

> Props to @flightfoot on Tumblr for being an amazing Beta


End file.
